


Safety Zone

by Diaphenia



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Early Work, F/M, Season/Series 02, Water balloons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-10
Updated: 2011-09-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 12:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaphenia/pseuds/Diaphenia
Summary: But this is a new and strange time where things like “water balloon fights for appendicitis” are botha thinganda thing he personally is attending.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was the second fic I ever posted. Since LJ has changed their terms of service, perhaps it's time to start crossposting older stuff. 
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://saucydiva.livejournal.com/3703.html)

Ben Wyatt hasn’t seen Leslie Knope in a week, and it makes him nervous.  
  
He doesn’t mean to be thinking about her. But as he eats his lunch in late July, he wonders where she is, and what she is up to. After all, once she was declared ‘essential personnel’ she started popping up in his life with alarming frequency.  
  
At first, it was endless requests for meetings. He would get politely- worded emails, and his Minnesotan upbringing demanded he respond equally politely, but somewhere after the thirtieth _(this was almost four days after the government shutdown)_ he stopped responding, with a silent _I’m sorry_ sent northwestward.  
  
She soon caught on to this, and started trying to flag him down any time he wandered past room 120. She would see him and chase him down the hallway, heels clacking and mouth moving. Once, she even followed him into the bathroom _(Councilman Howser was not pleased about that at all)_. When he changed his route, she started leaving notes on his car. He would go out to his car at the end of yet another day of glares and find half a dozen creatively-folded notes _(what was this, junior high?)_ requesting meetings and suggestions ranging from building a shark tank to a bird watching group. He tried parking on the street; still she left notes. He even parked outside his window when he knew he would be in his office the entire day, and he kept one eye on his spreadsheets and one eye on his car. He was certain she was never near the Saturn, but somehow she managed to leave nine notes. _How had that happened?_  
  
He started catching rides to work with Chris, and she started “happening to run into him” outside room 214b. She would smile her serene smile that said, _what a funny coincidence_ , and she would launch into ideas. When he pointed out finally that she worked on the first floor, and what possible reason could she have for being here, she smiled, ignored the question, and kept going.  
  
One day she tried that just as Chris was about to go on his run and he deftly sidestepped her attempts to convince him to sell the library by suggesting she go running with Chris too. She was wearing a suit with a skirt and heels, but somehow she returned ten minutes later in a track suit and running shoes. Chris was delighted to have a running buddy. Ben was delighted, too, to foist her off on someone else, but he still felt a little guilty when they came back an hour later and she was red-faced and sweaty and gulping down water like she might fall over. Chris had given her electrolyte waters and she sat down the corner of Ben’s desk and held one to her face while she chugged the second bottle, and Ben did not accomplish anything else that day.  
  
Since then, she had gone mysteriously missing.  
  
Oh, she wasn’t gone from the building. She was still first in and last out. Ben still got dozens of emails a week from her. Even when he knew she was in meetings all day—  
_even when they were in meetings all day together where she had no electronics in her hands-_ he would return to his office and find emails about hiking trails and hummingbirds. But she hadn’t tried anything else with him, and he wondered why.  
  
He soon found out.  
  
He is leaning over the water fountain when a sudden “Hi Ben!” causes him to jerk up suddenly and whack his head. He turns around to see a smiling Leslie holding a colorful flyer.  
  
“I am raising money for Alzheimer’s! Ann—you remember Ann— is a nurse and she has a charity she supports and she asked me to help her and we are throwing a party and you and Chris are coming.”  
  
Ben has only a hazy recollection of Ann from that night at the Snakehole, and from seeing occasional flashes of her sitting next to Leslie in the courtyard over lunch _(not that he ever looks for Leslie, except to avoid her)_. She seems nice enough, and Chris has mentioned her several times, but he isn’t sure he would recognize her unless she was at City Hall. Nor does he particularly care about agoraphobia. Still, her grin is infectious. He smiles, and nods, and as she runs off chasing down some other poor soul, he looks at the flyer, and it’s for a water balloon fight. _What?_  
  
***  
Leslie has a new project, and it is wonderful to be busy again. All summer _(ok, it has only been summer for a month, really, but six agonizing weeks since the government shut down)_ has been endless wheel-spinning. She has filled up several binders with ideas, but the empty Parks Department is depressing.  
  
So when Ann had come to lunch one day and told her that her hospital was raising money for Alzheimer’s, Leslie had taken this as a plea for help and had come up with a water balloon fight to raise money. This took up the better part of a week to start planning logistics, and almost completely ignoring the Parks Department _(not that there is anything to do there)._  
  
She still gets the minimal work done, and she still emails the state auditor almost hourly. She is so glad she set up Ben on her automatic email list serve. Sarah over in IT is just brilliant. Leslie won’t have to add new ideas to that till mid-August.  
  
Now that everything is planned, and permits have been obtained, there is only inviting people. She has invited almost everyone in the building _(even Ben)_ and now she has to get a hold of her people.  
  
She starts off calling April. _“You have reached April’s phone. If this is Andy, I am having fun without you. If this is Ann, stop calling me and go hang out with your boyfriend Andy.”_  
  
Ron, who hates his phone and rarely checks his email, is similarly impossible to reach.  
  
Jerry answers, and gives her some excuse about being by the lake. She talks over him and commands him to come back, and hangs up before she knows for certain if he will be there.  
  
She sends Donna a text message and gets a positive response almost immediately.  
  
Buoyed by Donna’s positive response, she dials up the Lady Foot Locket and asks to speak to Tom.  
  
“Tom Haverford.”  
  
“Tom, it’s Leslie, how are you?”  
  
“Keeping fine. What can I do for you?”  
  
“We are having a party to eradicate Alzheimer’s!”  
  
“That is the worst invitation you have ever extended to me, and you once invited me to see all six Harry Potter movies in a row.”  
  
“People liked that party! Those that came to that party loved that party. This is different: It’s a water balloon fight.”  
  
“Tell me about the ladies who are attending.”  
  
“It’s mostly going to be government people.”  
  
“No can do.”  
  
“Come on, Tom, we haven’t seen you in forever. Everyone is going to be there! Donna, Jerry… Andy… Ron….”  
  
“Ron is going to be at a water balloon fight for anorexia?”  
  
“Absolutely I am positive if you are coming because I said that.”  
  
“Let’s talk ammunition…”  
  
After assuring Tom he could bring his own little water gun, she wanders over to Andy, who is laying on his counter, lost in thought.  
  
“How’s business?”  
  
“It’s… not happening. No one is in the building anymore. But I am writing songs like you would not believe.” Andy leans over to his stand’s chair and grabs his guitar. He starts strumming, and singing, _“Leslie Knope in front of me, holding papers, in a quiet city hall…”_ At that point, inspiration apparently flees him, because he puts his guitar back down.  
  
He really sounds just as good one-armed as he did with both.  
  
“Andy, you want to come to a water balloon fight, right?”  
  
“That sounds like the coolest thing ever. Let me see that flyer.” He scans it quickly, nodding the whole time, telling her he cares about asthma and promising to assist her in filling balloons and water guns.  
  
_Excellent._  
  
***  
Ben has agreed to far too many things since getting to Pawnee. He told someone his story, which he never does _(at least, never within twenty four hours of meeting them)._ He promised to fire someone, and then didn’t _(he still isn’t sure how that happened)_. And he bribed a singer to come to a concert that he _himself_ canceled _(he really can’t figure that one out)._  
  
But this is a new and strange time where things like “water balloon fights for appendicitis” are both _a thing_ and _a thing he personally is attending_. He pays his entrance fee, enters into a fenced-off section of the park next to the hospital, and slips into the crowd. There are dozens and dozens of people watching Leslie Knope give a speech about the dangers of whatever this is raising money for. She is standing on a makeshift podium explaining the rule; essentially, everyone gets a grocery bag of balloons, anyone can have more in exchange for money, and people who pay additional fees _(not fees, donations)_ get to bring in whatever extra stuff they want. The water war will last from the blowing of the bullhorn to whenever people stop giving her money, as far as he can tell. Even though it is hot out— _it is noon in July in Southern Indiana_ —the crowd clearly adores listening to Leslie, who shines so brightly in the sun he finds himself reaching for his sunglasses to shield his retinas.  
  
The shoeshine guy is handing out the bags of balloons, a garbage bag duct-taped over his broken arm. Ben takes his bag and checks out his supply. He bumps in to Chris, who is trying to talk to that friend of Leslie’s, telling her he is literally fascinated with eradicating athlete’s foot. The friend— Ann, her name is _Ann_ — is demurring, trying to politely get out of the conversation. Ben realizes he shouldn’t be enjoying watching Chris strike out… but he is. Ben wonders, briefly, if it was a bad idea to wear a tie, and he takes off his watch and slips it into his pocket.  
  
The crowd is clearly excited, a little breathless with anticipation. Still, even though he is looking at Leslie the moment she sounds the alarm, he jumps a little, and when he sees Leslie slip off her blazer _(she is wearing some sort of sundress underneath, and he is surprised at how carefree she looks)_ it occurs to him that he should probably get away from her, because she probably has it in for him.  
  
She picks other targets, though, not that he’s keeping up with Leslie because he’s getting pelted from all sides from a crowd of government workers who recognize him as the one to blame for their problems. Once they assess him as soaked, they move on to throwing balloons at each other. Ben realizes he isn’t sure how to handle this, because he is not on particularly friendly terms with these people and he isn’t sure how they will react to him hurdling balloons at them.  
  
So he takes a balloon out and tosses it gently in the air a few times.  
  
“Take cover!” and suddenly he is on the ground underneath Leslie Knope, who has _knocked him over_ behind a picnic table. She struggles for a moment to get up off of him, and he stops breathing. It doesn’t help that sections of her outfit are plastered to her. Ben has never thought of Leslie _like that_. He feels guilty— he shouldn’t be thinking of her _like that_ , she is a strong competent woman, and he still might have to fire her— but water does _amazing_ things for her.  
  
She scrambles to her knees, and he kneels next to her while she flips the table to its side to provide them with cover.  
  
“We have to hide from Ann! She has teamed up with Chris and they are both really athletic!”  
  
“He’s a runner, not a pitcher.”  
  
“Yeah, but _she_ is! And Tom brought some crazy super-soaker water gun, and he is using Jean-Ralphio to distract people while he ambushes them!”  
  
_Tom, Tom, Tom…_ Ben searches his brain and turns up a member of the Parks Department he can’t quite picture, but is drawing a blank on a Jean-Ralphio.  
  
“He says he’s on the look-out for Ron, who probably isn’t coming, but apparently they are mad at each other? Because he is wearing a lot of camouflage, and I didn’t even realize Brooks Brother made camouflage, but here we are. And Donna has teamed up with the DMV and she is scariest of all!”  
  
That seems like a fair assessment of the DMV.  
  
“And you need my help?”  
  
“You are a valuable asset to have! You used to be on the baseball team in high school—“  
  
“Why do you know that? Did you google me—?”  
  
“Know thy enemy. Anyway, you were on the team _and_ you are already soaked. And you know Chris.”  
  
“You don’t need my help—“  
  
“And I owe you one. For Freddy Spaghetti.”  
  
He turns to her, and she is studying him from the side of her eyes in a way that seems sneaky but isn’t, really, and he licks his lips—  
  
And a water balloon whizzes over their heads, followed by a stream of water.  
  
“Shit!” He was not aware she could whisper _and_ shriek at the same time, but she can.  
  
He raises his head just a little from their foxhole and sees Ann coming at them, Chris close behind, while they are soaking everyone in their path. They have clearly already worked their way through their initial bags of balloons, because Ann has one of those cheap nylon bags on her back, and is reaching behind herself to whip balloons in all directions, and Chris has two water guns that he is alternating.  
  
“We are not going to hide forever, Leslie. We have to either make a run for it or fight back.”  
  
“Ben, really? We are going to fight. And we are _going to win._ ”  
  
***  
Leslie normally plans everything down to the brass tacks, but she is running on pure adrenaline and Nutri-Yum bars. So when Ben _(wearing one of those ridiculous button-ups like they are in the office, and it is just plastered against his skin, and stop that, Ben)_ starts giving her intense looks and suggesting they run away, her only thought becomes action almost immediately. She jumps up with her bag and starts throwing balloons at her friend and beautiful nurse Ann Perkins. Leslie has a pretty good arm, but she is outnumbered and Ann is aiming right at her, so she reaches down to hoist Ben up. He stands up slightly clumsily, but gets into it quickly, trying to knock Chris’s water gun out of his hands since Chris is aiming at Leslie’s throwing arm.  
  
Meanwhile, Ann starts whipping balloons at Ben, and Leslie realizes that she just doesn’t have the ammo to outlast these two, even counting Ben’s balloons, which she doesn’t since this is only a temporary alliance.  
  
“Wait, Ann, pause, pause! Temporary truce!”  
  
Ann pauses with a balloon in her hands. Chris looks at Leslie, incredulously, and says, “You can’t call a _truce._ It’s a water balloon fight for anemia.”  
  
Ben crooks his head and drops his balloon back in his bag. “I think they are having a meeting. Of course.”  
  
Leslie pulls Ann away from the state auditors for a moment, and starts in. “Ann, I don’t think I can beat you. But we can work together to take out Tom if you let me get to a refueling station.”  
  
“Beat Tom? Yes. Let me go grab Chris and Ben.”  
  
“Oh, we are bringing them too? Ok.”  
  
“Sure, why wouldn’t we?”  
  
Leslie doesn’t have a good answer for that beyond _Ben makes me a little nervous._  
  
The four of them take off for the nearest refueling station to buy more balloons and guns. They have to get across a fairly wide expanse of park to get there, so they stick close together when suddenly—  
  
“Hey Knope, nice dress!”  
  
Leslie looks down at her dress and flushes. The sewage department is descending upon them, and Joe has noticed that her dress is plastered against her chest _(thanks, Ann)_ and _gross_ , Joe.  
  
She looks over, and Ben has slits for eyes. He reaches over and grabs Chris’s gun over Chris’s surprised protest and aims straight for Joe. Joe hollers and his department starts pelting Ben with balloons.  
  
“Run! Save yourselves!” he yells back at the three of them.  
  
“No, we are staying here,” Chris declares.  
  
Ann snaps a quick, “No, we are running like he told us to,” before taking off.  
  
“Whatever you say, Ann Perkins,” and Chris follows her.  
  
Leslie feels torn. She would never sacrifice a friend, but does Ben count? She takes a step in the direction of the booth, stumbles a little, shakes her head and grabs Ben’s hand and _runs_ , hollering over her shoulder, “I should have known the sewage department would fight _dirty!_ ” She then turns to Ben and says, “I hope you remember that the next time we discuss budget cuts.”  
  
Ben runs awkwardly with her, trying to hold on to the gun and the few balloons in his bag. It would really be easier to run if she let go of his hand, but she isn’t going to let him do something stupid like stay and try to fight. She grips him tighter and runs on. Behind them a few members of the sewage department try to follow, but she isn’t a terrible sprinter and they get to Ann and Chris in the safety zone pretty quickly.  
  
Ann is frantically refilling her backpack while Chris peels bills off his billfold. Andy is behind the counter, and he greets her with an enthusiastic, “Leslie, we are raising so much money for alopecia! I can barely keep up with demand for balloons.”  
  
“That’s great, Andy!”  
  
“There are a lot of great things happening here.” He shoots her a big grin, and then smiles at Ben. She looks over at Ben too, and she suddenly realizes she is still holding his hand even though they aren’t running. And now that she is taking stock of the situation he is running his thumb over her thumb and it feels lovely and she needs to stop this now.  
  
“Time to refill!” and she drops his hand and steals his gun _(Chris’s gun)_ and sticks it under the hose. “Get another gun! Get balloons! Go go go! Come on, Ben.” It’s his name that snaps him out of his trance, like there are more important things to think about besides this water balloon fight? He stops staring at her and starts refueling.  
  
***  
Ben swears he remembers a time when he used to not be a rational person, someone who didn’t try to soak his coworkers, who hadn’t had to dodge water attacks from the Weights and Measures department or three quarters of the school board. And yet here he is, working with his generally rational _(except when it comes to health)_ partner, a nurse who seems to thinks she works at City Hall, and the most energetic deputy director he ever tried to fire, trying to raise money for arthritis by flinging water in every form at each other.  
  
He is not even clear what they are trying to ‘win.” Everyone on the field is soaked. By now, the half-hearted supporters have stuffed a few extra bills in the cans and taken off, and everyone that is left is, in some way or measure, out of their minds.  
  
Right now, for instance, the man Leslie identified as Tom _(who thinks he’s Rambo or something)_ is screaming from on top of a bench, a bad-ass water gun attached to some refillable tanks on his back _(where the hell do you even get something like that?)_ and he is spraying everyone in sight. Meanwhile, Donna _(he remembers Donna, who could forget Donna?)_ is gossiping with Mary Beth from the DMV. Ben’s eyes go huge when he realizes Donna has a fluffy-haired 20-something in a headlock, and she keeps reaching into her bag and pulling out balloons and squeezing them on to this guy’s head.  
  
He nudges Chris from their hiding place behind two trees to signal Ann and Leslie behind their tree that it is time to commence their plan. Chris takes the safety off his water gun _(why does a water gun have a safety lock? And why doesn’t his gun have a safety lock to click too?)_ And they both take off for Tom from behind the bench while the two women take off from the opposite side to attack Tom from the front. All they have to do is get that backpack off of him, cut off his water supply, and they should be able to negotiate peace between the remaining factions.  
  
This should be easy. Tom is about five feet tall, and there are four of them.  
  
***  
  
Leslie can’t believe they can’t take Tom down. He has outrun Chris, doused Ann, dodged Ben, and Leslie feels like he might actually be the winner. She isn’t sure she has the energy to continue this. She is regrouping behind a turned-over picnic table, and a peek over the top reveals that Tom is taking down a group of younger cops as well as a librarian or two.  
  
“What are we going to do?” she asks.  
  
“We could always surrender,” Ann suggests, rubbing her neck.  
  
“I agree with Ann Perkins.” Chris almost looks like he is about to rub her neck, but he hesitates, pulls back and smoothes his hair instead. Leslie files this away before turning to Ben.  
  
“What do you think?”  
  
“I just don’t understand how… He’s such a runt.”  
  
Ann breaks in. “You know, Leslie, we could leave here. We could go put on dry clothes. We could go get dinner.”  
  
“At JJs?” Leslie says, warming up to the idea.  
  
“Sure. Then we could come back tomorrow and clean up,” Ann coaxes her.  
  
Leslie lets her head fall back against the picnic table. “All right. Let’s give up. Does anyone have a white flag?”  
  
No one brought a white flag.  
  
Chris pops up, and grabs Ann’s hands to hoist her up. Ben looks at Leslie as he stands up too, quirking his brow in silent question, and she puts her hands up in the air, because it has been a long day. He goes toe-to-toe with her and pulls her up, and she is clearly tired because she doesn’t quite stick her landing, and stumbles a bit into his arms. They look each other in the eyes for a moment, and—  
  
“Oh my god, look at Donna!” Ann hollers, and they drop their arms and smooth their clothing for a moment before looking over at Donna, who has handed off Jean-Ralphio to Mary Beth, and has caught Tom and ripped his backpack off his back. She drops Tom and holds his gun over her head.  
  
Leslie feels a last burst of energy, and she runs over to Donna. “Donna’s the winner! Everyone, great job today. We have raised so much money for Alzheimer’s today.”  
  
“I am pretty sure we are raising money for angina,” Donna interrupts.  
  
Jean-Ralphio whoops at this.  
  
“AN-gina” Donna clarifies.  
  
“Actually, it is for Alzheimer’s,” Leslie smiles. “I think we have all shown that people who work together can make amazing things happen, and I think we can all agree parks are a large reason we can do this—“ and she looks pointedly at Ben, who sighs, and she continues on, “So let’s all put our hands together for a job well done!”  
  
“I just wanted a chance to battle Ron!” Tom huffs.  
  
“Ron isn’t here,” Donna points her newly-acquired water gun at Tom.  
  
“Be careful with that! I need to return it to the Sharper Image tomorrow.”  
  
Leslie wraps it up with a “Thanks to everyone for a job well done!” The last word is swallowed up with a large sudden clap of thunder, and the sky breaks open and pours over the two dozen or so people left.  
  
Everyone starts shrieking and running for their cars, as though these aren’t the people who have been running around hurdling water at each other all afternoon.  
  
Ann runs off with a, “See you at JJs but I am going to change first!”  
  
The place is cleared out of people within moments of the first drops. Leslie doesn’t run but starts picking up water guns. The major clean-up begins tomorrow, but for now, she just has to text Andy to make sure he has the money in a safe place, and she has to take down the signs, and right the picnic tables—  
  
And suddenly she realizes she isn’t alone. Ben is there with her grabbing some extra bags.  
  
She is surprised. He seemed so reluctant, in the beginning. “Shouldn’t you be running for cover?”  
  
“I couldn’t just leave you out here. Someone has to convince you that you don’t need do everything yourself.” He hesitates, and then takes a step closer to her. He reaches his hand up and pushes some hair out of her eyes, and wipes away some of the excess water off her cheeks. His fingers are warm against her face, and she has an urge to lean in to his hand. He looks at her and raises his eyebrows slightly, as if to say, _Is this all right?_  
  
Leslie raises her hand; steps up on her tip-toes to wipe some water off his face too. She bites her lip. This is so _intimate_ , and _such_ a bad idea. Still, all it would take is one quick lean in and she would be—  
  
And then there's a clap of thunder and a huge bolt of lightning illuminates the sky. They quickly drop their hands, and she is a little thrilled to see he looks as rattled as she feels.  
  
Really, what was she _thinking?_ What possible benefit could there be, besides maybe getting him out of that wet—no, no, _no,_ that is a terrible idea, and where the hell had it come from?  
  
Blushing, it occurs to her that he might be able to read these thoughts and she needs to stop having them while looking at him. She folds her arms over her chest and looks at him.  
  
He is looking at her straight in the eyes. “We should get going. Lightning, and here we are in a park.”  
  
She is about to pick up more stuff when he leans over and grabs her arm. She is surprised at how warm she feels when he touches her.  
  
“Come on, come on, you know if you stay Ann’s just going to come find you again.”  
  
“You’re right.” She grabs one more armful of stuff anyway. “You are coming?”  
  
“Yeah, I need to find my way back to the parking lot.”  
  
“No, no, no. To JJs.”  
  
He looks surprised. She watches him as he studies her frankly. He searches her face, and even though she wants to look away she knows she can’t. Still, she can feel her cheeks heating up, so she deflects by adding, “You ever have waffles with whipped cream? It’s amazing.”  
  
“Breakfast for dinner? I am really more into _dinner_ for dinner.”  
  
Leslie’s mouth drops open. And he seemed so _nice_ today, too.  
  
Ben looks at her and grins. “If it means that much to you, I could try whipped cream.”  
  
She bumps his arm with her shoulder, and smiles back.  
  
“I really am more of a savory person, though.” Ben mutters. She ignores this and walks with him to their cars.  
  
***  
After they start dating—not the secret dating, but the real dating—they often go for walks in parks, hand-in-hand, happy just to be together.  
  
One day, after visiting Ann, they decide to take an impromptu walk through the park next to the hospital _(even though it is not the next park on the schedule; Leslie has not told Ben there is a schedule)_. Ben reminds her it is supposed to rain soon, but she is not dissuaded. Walking through this particular park with the scent of rain in the air brings back memories, and they start talking about the fundraiser the summer of the shutdown, and how they feel about how they felt.  
  
“I thought about kissing you,” Ben confides. “And then I thought, that is a terrible idea.”  
  
“Terrible idea?” Leslie questions, even though of course it would have been.  
  
“And it would have been.” He pauses, and then adds, almost as an afterthought, “Besides, it would never have worked out. You would have ended things and I would be back in Indianapolis.”  
  
“You have thought about this?” Leslie feels slightly surprised.  
  
He looks away for a second, and she senses he is a little embarrassed to have brought it up. She holds her breathe; she is deeply curious and she doesn’t want him to change the subject.  
  
“I know you did not like me when we first met—“  
  
“You _threatened_ me with a _machete.”_ Leslie sighs in mock exasperation. Really, all of this could have been avoided if he was better with his metaphors.  
  
“You know I did not.” He shrugs, and she takes that as an awareness of his mistake. “Anyway, you didn’t like me, or, maybe more than that, you didn’t trust me. Even after I bought you a concert, you still didn’t like me.”  
  
“You can’t buy trust. At least, not with Freddy Spaghetti money.” Maybe if he had bought her a park on Lot 48.  
  
“Any other woman would want flowers. Chocolates. Jewelry. You want children’s concerts. Parks. Observatories.” He grins at her, since two of those three things had been successful _(one was still in the works)._  
  
“I am not like the other girls.”  
  
He laughs. “That’s an understatement, Leslie.” He stops walking, and gets a serious look on his face again. “And I am not saying you should’ve trusted me just because I laid down some cash. We had to get to a point where we had trust. And for you, I know now that means I had to be on your side. _Pawnee’s_ side. And it had to be genuine. Anything other than love of Pawnee would have sunk this ship before it sailed.”  
  
Leslie contemplates this. He isn’t wrong, really, even if he’s borrowing metaphors from their board game night.  
  
“And I needed time to adjust to—to really like—Pawnee. It’s not like other places.”  
  
Leslie nods, because it’s _better_.  
  
Ben gets a far-off look on his face, and tells her, “I like that we became friends first. And even though it hasn’t been smooth sailing—“He grimaces slightly, and she cringes—“We got past that. Now we have… long term potential.”  
  
“Long term potential?” She turns the phrase around in her head, and smiles.  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
They sit on a bench, still holding hands.  
  
“The sky’s turning dark.” Leslie says, continuing to sit.  
  
“They said it’s going to rain,” Ben answers, pulling her closer.  
  
It starts to rain, gently.  
  
“We really should be going.” Leslie says, standing up. She offers a hand to Ben.  
  
Ben stands up, and she takes a moment to savor the sight of him in the rain. There is something so freeing about being able to do this now, to drink him in whenever she wants, to assess him whenever she wants.  
  
He leans over and wipes off her face with his hands. She touches his face, too, and they lean into each other and start kissing.  
  
A first kiss could never be as hot as this one. Sure, there is something to be said for pent-up sexual frustration, but now he knows, for instance, exactly how she likes her bottom lip sucked on, and she knows how he likes when she massages his scalp. So he does, and she does, and they are getting soaked but neither of them cares. Things start really heating up, and she can feel him growing as excited as she is.  
  
She tugs on his arm, grabs his hand, and starts running back to the car. He laughs, and she thinks, _long-term potential._ Who would have guessed that back when they first got caught in the rain?


End file.
